It was a warm evening in the city and not yet dark. We arrived, giddy and happy, and he ordered two glasses of prosecco. The waiter managed to fit onto our tiny wood table two plates of tartines, a legumes dish, and a tray of fromage. And then we shared dessert. I can’t remember exactly but it must have been chocolate.

For art books, monographs and catalogs new and used at a discount. I can never manage to leave here without a bag full of books in tow.

It starts when a friend implores you to eat downstairs at La Esquina, the subterranean brasserie branch of Derek Sanders's Mexican axis of Kenmare Street. The food’s cheaper and probably better at the walk-in-only cafe around the corner from the restaurant’s entrance—a door disguised by a taqueria counter and a sign that reads “Employees Only”—but there’s a certain category of New Yorker who thrives on having what others don’t. A reservationist will ask you if you’ve “dined with us before,” and in general, it takes knowing someone in the industry, smooth talking, or (velvet-rope flashback) looking good and confident at the door, to waltz in at prime time. The reward is dining in a Mexican dungeon as styled for a Vogue shoot, complete with metalwork, distressed stone walls, and water dripping on the back of your neck (though the owners can probably thank the air conditioner for the added atmospherics). Making up the grinning crowd at secluded booths and in private cells (?): a healthy mix of models, cougars, and maybe John Mayer picking his way through red snapper ceviche, cauliflower and avocado taquitos, grilled octopus tostados, or a plate of tuna tartare with a tamarind glaze. If the food sounds light, you’re right; it’s playing to the delicious crowd.  This is, what "The New Yorker" wrote about this fantastic place!

Moma is worth a visit, but for a more lively Art experience ánd for free, one should visit Chelsea. A colony of 400 Art Galleries, showing the best in contemporary art. Running straight through is the high line, a 1 mile long linear park, build on a former railroad-spur, worth the walk.

Geek out over the massive menu of Belgian beer at Spuyten Duyvil. Relax in the backyard seating and say, "Ooh, I gotta remember this brew," without realizing you probably won't see it again elsewhere. Then cross the street to Fette Sau, a BBQ experience equally well designed because it's owned by the same couple, the Carrolls. Order from their wide selection of meat cuts, served by the pound on butcher paper. The sides shine too, with the best potato salad and best BBQ beans I've ever had.